


But We Keep On Marching Forward

by Hekate1308



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Lawyer Dean Winchester, M/M, demon Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:14:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 20,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27818125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hekate1308/pseuds/Hekate1308
Summary: Dean Winchester could never have imagined that one day, a demon would stroll into his office and change his life. Drowley Christmas Calendar.
Relationships: Crowley/Dean Winchester
Comments: 39
Kudos: 60





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, a Drowley Christmas Calendar too. Enjoy!

Sam hadn’t waited long to get out of Lawrence, and deep down, Dean hadn’t been surprised. For years after Mum’s death, they had listened to Dad’s determined tirades that one of the supernatural creatures who’d made their town their home must be responsible; and while he had always declared that he didn’t believe it (neither did Dean, for that matter – he doubted he ever had), it had still been enough for Sam to decide he’d rather not deal with them at all.

Or Dad.

Or Dean.

And so he’d left and gone on to Washington to work in a prestigious law firm, leaving their own, Winchester and Sons, to become Winchester & Winchester.

Dean had been left to try and make sense of whatever Dad had done to the little money he’d made over the years and the few clients who’d stayed on despite his terrible managing of their affairs.

Dean rather suspected most of them still gave him the time of day out of pity, if nothing else.

Things admittedly had gotten a little better since – well, as terrible as it sounded, since Dad had wrapped his car around a lamp post while being blind drunk. These days, Dean could actually work on cases and, if he said so himself, he was a competent enough attorney, so he scraped by.

Barely.

He was well aware that he could have contacted Sam, but there had been bad words when he’d left, and other than a terse phone call in which he’d made clear he wouldn’t come to Dad’s funeral they hadn’t spoken.

He sighed as he once more went over the firms’ bank account. What good did it do that he was good enough, if no clients showed up?

Oh well. Time to call it a day.

* * *

On the morning everything changed, thigs seemed to be going pretty normal. There was a pixy infestation in the kitchen, but Dean made quick work of it. A bit of salt and an incantation, and that was it. As opposed to Sam, he’d never developed an antipathy against creatures; they just were what they were, and most, except for little pests like these, left humans to themselves anyway.

A fact he was reminded of when he saw the headline of _Senate Majority Leader claims creatures are not protected under the Bill of Rights._

Bullshit, if you asked Dean. Creatures had been citizens for decades now, and as such they should be protected by their country’s laws. He at least hoped that he would have thought the same without his legal training and despite Dad.

Dad. There was no grief when he thought of him; there hadn’t been right after he died. To his shame, there had even been something like relief. In the end, they had lost Dad the night their home went up in flames, just like Mom, and there had been nothing they could do about it.

Dean threw the paper away – sometimes he wondered why he even still had it, but it somehow would have felt wrong, an attorney without a subscription – and went into the garage to get Baby. Thank God Dad hadn’t been driving her that night; it would have hurt far more to lose the car than his father.

He turned his music all the way up to drown out his thoughts – no reason to be a Debbie Downer, every day was a new opportunity after all.

He had no idea how right he was.

His firm was small enough that he only needed a part-time secretary these days, and he was rather sure Bela did it more out of their somewhat-complicated friendship that had sprung out of him helping her out a few years back, when it had looked like she might end up in prison after all. This morning, he was alone.

But not for long.

He was working on a file when a smooth voice with a British accent rang out. “I assume I am talking to Mr. Dean Winchester?”

He raised his head and studied the bearded man in a clearly very expensive suit who’d apparently strolled into his firm without knocking. Or perhaps he’d been so busy that he hadn’t heard; that had been known to happen as well.

He nodded, registering that he knew his first name and had therefore at least made a few inquiries as he stood up and held out his hand. “Yes. Mr. –“

“Just Crowley will be fine.”

Huh. Just Crowley. This clearly indicated that he was a creature of some kind; most humans would have either offered their first name immediately or stuck with mister, but creatures had all sorts of little rituals they clung to.

“Crowley, then.”

He nodded and sat down after Dean had indicated the chair in front of his desk. “I’ll get straight to the point, Mr. Winchester.” His eyes turned the blood-red of the more powerful of demons. “You see, I am being discriminated against.”

Well. Wasn’t this interesting. 


	2. Chapter 2

Dean had never had a demonic client before. The one creature he’d worked for had been a banshee, and that had been completely coincidental – an insurance case; really, it had made no difference that she happened to howl on moonless nights, and anyway, Grim Soul was perfectly pleasant on any other day.

But this – this was –

He felt something at the back of his mind begin to itch, as it often did when a promising case presented itself – and he wasn’t talking about money.

Oh no.

This was promising to be interesting, one of those cases he could sink his teeth into. Much as Sam had always believed so, Dean hadn’t just studied law to appease Dad (plus, he’d always maintained that Sam had no right to comment since he was lawyer too) ; no, he actually enjoyed cracking open a case, building it up from the ground, until you could just tell you’d proven your point just right, and victory was within reach –

First things first, though. “And may I ask what this discrimination consists of, M – Crowley?”

It quickly transpired that one of his enterprises (of Couse he had more than one; every demon Dean had ever met, few as they had been, had had a downright obsessive competitive streak) was a building firm, and that he was of the opinion that he’d been robbed of lucrative contracts by both the city and the county more than once.

“And is there no other reason why you should not have gotten the contracts, apart from your demonic identity?”

Dean knew well enough that often, people simply couldn’t accept that either they weren’t the best in their field or someone else was ready to take the job for less money than they were; and he was talking to a demon after all –

In the next moment, he chastised himself for the thought. Everybody knew that, as opposed to the stories that had bedevilled them over the years, demons were born just like humans, mostly to witches and other magic practitioners; and furthermore, Dean was very aware that they didn’t commit any more unspeakable acts or crimes like the human part of the population – quite the opposite, in fact.

So he had red eyes. So what.

They even suited him, really.

_No, no, don’t check out a client. Nope, Winchester. Been there, done that, don’t make the same mistake twice._

Yeah, so Crowley was good-looking. And Dean had always had a thing for men in sharp suits. Big deal.

Alright, back on track.

“If you care to look up my firm, Mr. Winchester, you will find that those who make deals with me are usually very satisfied with my services – as long as they can overlook the fact that I am a demon, of course.”

Evidence was always a good thing in such cases, as far as Dean was concerned. Sure, it was a little circumstantial, but it was a piece of the puzzle they would have to construct.

“And then I know for a fact that the head of the town planning committee, Arthur Ketch, has something against me.”

“That you’re a demon?”

“That his wife didn’t have anything against me before she ran away”.

Ah. Well, at least he knew he didn’t have a chance anyway. “That probably wasn’t the best idea.”

Crowley shrugged. “I am aware, but what can I do if he prefers riding his stupid compensation bike around instead of spending time with the woman he has vowed to love and cherish?”

Dean wondered if everything the guy said sounded sarcastic. Probably. “But you wish to bring in a lawsuit due to discrimination due to your nature?”

“Exactly. It is far from the only time I have lost profit because some people can’t get over their prejudices. And why not kill two birds with one stone?”

That made sense to Dean.

Something else, however, did not.

“If I may ask a question – “

“Certainly.”

God, if he tried to appear any smoother, they’d be slithering around his officer in no time. “This is a very small firm. Why would you choose me to represent you in such a case?”

It might not have been the soundest business practice to asks such questions, but Dean had always held that one should be as honest to the clients as possible, a philosophy Dad hadn’t shared.

To his surprise, the demon smirked. “Mr. Winchester, I am very aware that it will not be easy to prove our case. What I need is not some flashy office building, or a guy in a smarmy suit who makes a show of it all. What I need is tenacity. And if there nis one thing I can say for certain, it’s that you haven’t given up yet.”

His eyes had slowly changed from red to green and, dear lord, they were _sparkling_.

Whether he took the case or not, Dean realized, he was in trouble.


	3. Chapter 3

Crowley had chosen the firm he wanted to represent him in his case very carefully, indeed.

Oh, he could have gone for a famous lawyer, of course. Someone who was constantly in the media, whose face and voice was known and admired, who could put on a show.

But this wasn’t about putting on a show. Fighting openly against discrimination and getting applauded for it was a perfectly fine way of spending one’s evening, of course, but when it came to actually getting the work done instead of simply accepting the praise were two very different things.

Not that he wouldn’t like being thanked later. But first they had to do the hard work.

In other words, he needed someone who was ready to get themselves dirty, someone who didn’t have much to lose when it came to their professional reputation (yet, for if they succeeded, and he had every intention to, things would change drastically in that regard), someone who was passionate and dedicated –

Enter Dean Winchester.

It was more a coincidence than anything else that had brought the law firm of Winchester & Winchester to Crowley’s attention, really. A business acquaintance had mentioned the man in passing, as someone who was dedicated and competent but sadly saddled with the legacy of a father who had all but driven the firm into the ground before driving himself into a lamp post.

While Crowley himself couldn’t appreciate loyalty just because of blood relations, he could approve loyalty in principal, and it certainly seemed like Dean Winchester was a man who dedicated himself to the path he chose.

And if they succeeded and he became a household name, he would owe Crowley more than a few favours, and it never hurt to be bale to call in some.

So far, so good. He had a plan.

What he hadn’t counted on, however, were certain… complications.

He had done his research, of course. He never would have gone in otherwise; he had seen too much, done too much in his life to risk something as stupid as that.

But –

It quickly transpired when he walked in without knocking, as he was wont to do simply because it made his entrance more interesting, that the pictures on their website (professional enough, really – almost too good for his reported money problems, but that only made it more intriguing) had not done Dean Winchester justice.

To pit it mildly.

The man who got up to greet him – he had been too busy with work to notice him coming in, another point in his favour – was one of the most beautiful he’d ever set eyes on, and considering he had been born in the 17th century and slept with his fair share of stunning people, this was indeed saying something.

Really, if he hadn’t decided to stick with his father’s firm, he could have been anything from model to actor, whatever he chose to put his mind to –

_No time for that. Yet. Let’s wait and see if he is as clever as he is pretty._

At first glance, Dean Winchester clearly seemed to know what he was doing. His questions were to the point, he understood what was going on and, most important for an attorney, he read between the lines too. And he didn’t bat an eye when Crowley informed him of his regrettable mistake with Mrs. Ketch.

At least she hadn’t gotten attached, as had happened a few times over the last three hundred years. That, he had been spared.

He could also tell that Dean (and only later would he ask himself why he, who had never seen the importance of a first name, had begun to think of him by his first name as soon as he met him) was immediately starting to process the case in his mind, analyse the possible outcomes.

Yes, this was someone who took his job seriously and how was ready to dedicate himself to it.

By all appearances, he had chosen well.

So this had been dealt with.

Time to go about his day, then.

But if so – why found he himself suddenly reluctant to leave, even as they were shaking hands? He glanced at his watch (the new Breitling, of course); their meeting had just taken until –

“Lunch time” he heard himself say. “Would you care to join me?”

And he didn’t even need to eat. Most dyes he didn’t, preferring to simply have a glass of Craig.

It must be those damned green eyes. That was the only explanation.

Said eyes were now widening in surprise as he obviously amended his impression of Crowley, despite the fact that this was a one and only kind of invitation.

After all, he reasoned with himself, they had just entered a business arrangement. He might as well play nice this time –

For once. 


	4. Chapter 4

Dean quickly came to the conclusion that at least part of the motive for Crowley’s invitation to lunch had been that he wanted to test him.

Otherwise he hardly would have suggested a restaurant near his firm that was mostly visited by creatures. Surely not.

Still, two could play at that game, and he couldn’t deny that he was… intrigued.

He had after all never eaten with a demon before. Not that he believed they did it in any other way than humans – but it was interesting to imagine spending time with someone who was not human regardless.

He hoped he was actually being tolerant instead of exhibiting some morbid curiosity – or worst of all, genuine interest in Crowley, and Crowley alone.

Because, he reminded himself as they strolled down the street, that couldn’t and shouldn’t be.

“I assume you’ve never been here before?” Crowley indicated the place, Dean wasn’t surprised that it seemed to be out of his usual price range.

“No” he admitted simply and felt more than saw Crowley studying him with a shrewd expression on his face that, quite frankly, looked much better than it had any right to.

Yes, this was at least partly a test.

Well. After all, yes, most humans weren’t too keen on demons, but so far, Dean didn’t know how Crowley stood when it came to humans. He didn’t seem to like that Arthur Ketch guy, but then, he appeared to be a real piece of work, so who would?

“Never had the occasion” he shrugged. “Haven’t dealt with many creatures in my time. Always assumed they’d go to a lawyer who was…” he trailed off, unsure how to say it.

“Oh yes, there are many who prefer to deal with other creatures as opposed to humans” Crowley simply said. “But I thought a human lawyer would send the right message.”

Oh yes – hey, remember, they are just like us, instead of We’re two creatures going against people because we like it. Not that the later would have made sense to Dean, but many men were idiots; he should know. That’s how he made, or didn’t make, his money.

“Ah, Mr. Crowley, sir.”

The waiter, who addressed the demon with as much reverence as he possibly could, looked nervous, and Dean noted that Crowley didn’t correct him when it came to his name. “Ah yes, Albert, wasn’t it?”

Albert – he looked pretty normal to Dean, so maybe another demon or a vampire or something like that, but he told himself not to speculate as if he was studying a strange species in a zoo – didn’t seem very reassured that Crowley remembered him and instead turned to Dean to say hello.

He nodded. After Albert had scuttled off to get the menus, he raised an eyebrow. “A regular customer, are you?”

“I like good service, and Albert normally provides it.”

Probably because he was scared shitless, but Dean didn’t say so. At least it was a good thing to know; but then, he’d already had the feeling that there was distinctly more to Crowley than met the eye. You didn’t build up several companies from scratch without stepping on a few toes.

He still gulped a little when he saw the prices, and Crowley noticed. Naturally.

“I have every intention of paying, Mr. Winchester. You don’t have to worry.”

“Thank you. Firm’s not been going so well” he said as carelessly as he could.

“Oh I know.”

Of course he knew, but that wasn’t the point. This was a test, and Dean was going to get marks for honesty. “Just how much information did you gather before you came to see me, anyway?”

“Are you expecting me to disclose that?”

“No, but I just thought we could even the odds.”

“Why, are we having a wager?”

“You tell me.”

Oh dear. He was flirting. He wasn’t supposed to, but he was flirting.

God damn it. Always the same – throw him a good challenge and he couldn’t resist.

And Crowley, he was already sure, would prove to be a very good challenge indeed.

“I meant what I said in your office; I need someone who is tenacious and won’t give up when the first problems show up” he said as Albert came to take their orders. Dean had carefully chosen a meal in the middle of the price range – very aware that Crowley would notice. “And there is something to be said for challenging yourself, wouldn’t you say? Plus, you could have done as your brother has –“

“I’m not here to talk about my brother.” He didn’t want to talk about Sammy. Not now. Mayne never.

To his utter surprise, something like understanding flashed in Crowley’s eyes. Just for a moment, but it had been there, Dean was ready to swear it.

Good God, what had he gotten himself into?


	5. Chapter 5

Crowley tended to get bored of people rather easily. That wasn’t as much an insult as it could have been, though; he’d simply been around for so long that he knew everything humanity had to offer.

At at least so he had thought.

Because it quickly transpired over the course of their meal – delicious, as always; they knew better than to risk his wrath – that Dean Winchester was very interesting indeed.

Granted, he had already been a little bit curious – he couldn’t help it after he’d read up on Winchester & Winchester, realizing that there must have been some kind of fight in the family that led to the younger brother leaving for greener pastures and that their late father had been a drunk who’d almost ridden it into the ground, were it not for his oldest.

There was a story there, and he’d never been able tor resist a good story. It came from being a creature – stories where part of their very being, so to speak.

Even if those told about demons tended to be bloody and rather incorrect.

A part of him had almost hoped that Dean would turn out to be dull after all, especially after he had seen him in the flesh; but instead, he proved to be as fascinating as he was good-looking and wasn’t that… something.

And he also liked what he was seeing, of that, Crowley was absolutely sure. There had even been – back in the office – when he had mentioned Ketch’s wife, that unornate little affair, he could have sworn there’d been some disappointment –

It would be highly unethical to sleep with his attorney, of course, but that in itself would not have kept Crowley from doing so. After all, he was not a demon for nothing.

But it would complicate things. Maybe when all was said and done they could have a little fun… if Dean was amenable, of course. He’d never thought much of those who took something like that from people without asking first.

“May I guess something?” Dean suddenly asked. They had now reached the desert, and the way Dean’s face had lit up when he’d realized they had pecan pie had made Crowley’s heart beat a little faster in his chest than he was used to. How utterly captivating.

“If you want” he said lightly, drinking his own coffee, black, no sugar.

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence that you brought me here.”

“Of course not I know the place –“

“More than that. You owe the place, do you?”

He should have known that Dean would guess. “Yes. How –“

“One scared waiter I could buy – bad experiences and all that – but It’s not just Albert. They’re all walking on eggshells around us, and I’ve never received a meal in a restaurant that quickly. Means you could potentially make their life hell, and that’s mostly possible if you have the money that pays their bills.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Oh no, I’m certain you are guilty of much more.”

Yes; Dean found him attractive alright. That had just definitely been flirting.

He filed the information away for later, much later.

Still – first test passed. Or at least that was what he told himself, being actually very aware that he’d only thought of not revealing he was the owner when the restaurant had been in sight.

After their meal they got up and Dean surprised him by reaching out to shake his hand again to say goodbye. Normally, humas tended to be careful not to touch him more than necessary.

More proof that there was something…

He told himself to behave (not that it often worked) and went about his day.

* * *

Bela had already unlocked the office when Dean returned, in a much better mood than he had been in the morning – and the days and weeks prior to this morning, to be perfectly blunt.

She noticed, of course. “Well doesn’t someone look chipper.”

“Got a new client” he said, passing her the file.

She raised an eyebrow. Of course. Bela knew all there was to know about… anyone there was something worth knowing about, since this secretary gig was only one job amongst many.

Dean had wisely never asked for more details on her others.

“Fergus Crowley? How come?”

“What do you know about him?”

She shrugged. “Stays mostly on the right side of the law, and is supposed to be pretty decent for a demon. What does he want?”

Dean explained it to her.

She whistled. “So he wants to go up against Ketch? Fine by me.”

There was something in her tone that made Dean’s protectiveness swell up, but he knew only too well she wouldn’t like it if he showed her. So he simply said, “Good, then. Sounds like We’re going to have some fun, at least.”


	6. Chapter 6

At first, nothing much happened. There were, after all, procedures to follow; they couldn’t just jump up and down Capital Hill and demand that action be taken, not since they had decided to go through the courts. And so, Dean anticipated that he wouldn’t hear from Crowley all too soon.

In that he was wrong, however, although through no doings of their own.

But first, he focused on the case – and a few others he thankfully was busy with, finally he was making some money – and it quickly turned out that he, like many other humans, had turned a blind eye until now.

For, being intent on getting creatures the protection they deserved, he quickly realized that just walking down the street, he could see other man cross it to avoid walking past a banshee or a vampire; he saw shops and diners where it was made clear, if not explicitly then through certain architectural or lightning choices that they didn’t welcome any other customers than humans; and of course no one could overlook or -hear the jibes thrown around. “Screaming like a banshee” was considered an insult, after all.

It made him feel rather guilty, really. How could he have lived in Lawrence his whole life and never paid attention to such things happening fright in front of his nose?

It also made him slightly uncomfortable now to remember Sam’s rants, how he had sometimes seemed to blame creatures for… existing and making Dad have strange ideas? He’d never looked at it from that point of view before, but still.

Bela had turned out to be rather enthusiastic about the case, to his surprise.

At least until she dropped hints of an unhappy childhood – an understatement, he rather suspected – and how a creature had helped her out, back then.

He wondered for a moment if he should press for details, but some secrets were not meant to be shared. If Bela had something to tell him, she would of her own violation, he was sure.

It was Bela who alarmed him that something was wrong one Tuesday afternoon. While he didn’t have a panic button installed – considering how emotional some cases could leave people, it was on his list of priorities once he mad enough money to renovate – but if she stood up, pushing her chair back with more force than necessary, it bumped into the wall his office and the reception shared, and he knew something was up.

He immediately jumped into action, taking his father’s old pistol out of a small drawer, just to be on the safe side. At least he could conceal it easily enough in one of his suit pockets.

He had never seen the guy with the tacky tie before, but something about the way Bela looked at him made him instantly glad he had his weapon with him. “Good day, Mr. –“

“Ketch. Arthur Ketch.”

Dear God. And he’d thought Crowley’s accent was a bit obnoxious at times. But then, Crowley at least sounded like a real person, rather than someone who’d googled How To Be British.

“I see.”

“Mr. Winchester, may I have a word? I believe it if of great importance.”

“Of course. If you’d excuse us, Bela.”

He saw the slightly contemptuous glance bestowed on her and his opinion of Ketch sank lower. He had never thought much of those who looked down on secretaries or other employees; even Crowley, for all Albert had been shaking in his boots, had not been condescending in the slightest. Somewhat terrifying, yes, but not condescending.

And so he escorted him into his office.

“Mr. Winchester – Dean, if I may – Dean then –“

He certainly hadn’t waited for him to give him permission, he thought somewhat morosely, but didn’t let it show. Wait first.

“It has come to my attention that a certain Crowley is now a client of yours.”

“I am afraid any discussion of that would fall under attorney-client privilege, Mr. ketch” he said smoothly, as he would have told anyone else, although perhaps not with as much satisfaction.

There remained the question, o course, how Ketch had found out. Had he people spy on Crowley? But that seemed odd; certainly someone like him would be able to tell and act accordingly.

“I am aware of that. But I thought a friendly warning was in order. You see, Crowley is a demon.”

“Is that so” he said flatly.

“Yes, indeed. And one who has already distinguished himself as mot being very kindly inclined towards humans, you see.”

Really? When Crowley undoubtedly also catered towards human? How stupid did he think Dean was? “I see.”

“Yes. So any association would be no good for your firm, or yourself.”

 _Alright, threaten me all you want. See if I care._ “I understand.”

_Don’t let him see._

“Then I’m glad.”

Ketch left soon afterwards.


	7. Chapter 7

Yes; let him, think Dean was a pushover for just long enough so he could call Crowley.

Before he had a chance to, though, Bela came in without knocking. That was unusual in itself; but her expression told him it was urgent.

“Did he –“ was his first question, but she cut him off.

“Don’t worry about me. He knows better than to even try.,”

“That’s my girl:”

She gave him a surprisingly heartfelt smile that, however, dropped quickly from her face. “It’s just – you should be careful. Ketch – he is bad news. Everyone who knows him also knows that… well… he likes to take what he wants. Without asking.”

Dean’s hands balled into fist. The worst kind of scumbag, then. “I’ll take care.”

“Thank you.”

She went back to her desk and he quickly looked up Crowley’s number in his file. Better warn him that Ketch was on the war path.

“Crowley.”

“Dean Winchester.”

“Ah, Mr. Winchester. What –“

“I just had a visit from Arthur Ketch.” He had the feeling that Crowley wouldn’t mind the interruption, considering what he had to tell him.

“Oh.”

“Yes. Oh. He basically told me I shouldn’t trust you and that you were dangerous.”

A pause.

Then, “If I said I actually agree, would you take this as discouragement from our arrangement?”

“Not at all”. It wasn’t even that Crowley was a demon – although that had a slight part in it, Dean might have considered himself a pretty tolerant guy, but that didn’t blind him to the fact that he, too, had his prejudices – but that he was a successful businessman, and those always had to be shrewd and on the lookout for opportunities. And they couldn’t afford to underestimate enemies. And Ketch was very much that, his visit had proven it. “Quite frankly, I think the same about Ketch, and when push comes to shove, I prefer you.”

And he couldn’t even say why, that was the crux of the matter. He would have liked to believe that his sense of justice couldn’t take demons being discriminated against, but he was sadly aware that it had to do with Crowley’s attractions.

“A wise choice, Mr. Winchester.”

“It’s Dean.” It was remarkably easy to give Crowley the permission he would have denied Ketch, if the man had actually given him the opportunity to do so. After all, he called him Crowley – they might as well even the filed.

“Dean.”

God, his name sounded much too good coming from Crowley’s lips.

_Get a grip. You’ve had lunch with the guy once, and for the millionth time, he is a client. Client. Do not touch._

“You should probably figure out how he knew…”

And just as Dean was saying it, the truth came to him. “Just so I know – how many more tests do I have to pass?”

“Tests?”

“Guy like you knows when he’s being followed. You ought to have noticed. I don’t care if Ketch has freaking Section 31 or something, you would have noticed.”

He was absolutely sure of that. Crowley, despite their short acquaintance, certainly struck him as someone who covered all his bases.

“So you were waiting how I would react to Ketch trying to bully me.”

Crowley muttered something under his breath he couldn’t quite understand, then spoke up. “And you passed, if we use your terminology.”

“How do you know? I could be in cahoots you with him, you know.”

“So the man who stayed with his father to try and save a dying law firm despite being more than capable of fleeing the drunkard like his brother is disloyal? You will have to try and come up with a better lie to convince me.”

“Maybe I just found his tie abhorrent.”

“Oh God. Which one did he wear?”

Dean closed his eyes and shuddered as he remembered. “The orange one with green applications.”

“Never trust a man with a tacky tie.”

“My words exactly.”

“So, now that you have been warned and have rejected his warning…”

“It’s probably safe to say he’s not a fan of mine. And then there’s Bela –“

“Ah. Miss Talbot.”

Of course he knew.

“Yeah, she knows him, and just from her expression when she saw him I know we were in trouble. Don’t worry though, I can take care of myself.”

At least Dad’s insistence that they learned self-defence would come in handy after all these years – should something happen. Not that it had to; they might as well just be careful.

“I do not doubt that but a certain degree of caution might be a good idea.”

“Don’t worry I am ever vigilant.”

“I’ve noticed.”

 _Client_ , he reminded himself again, _client. Stop it with the flirting_. “I’ll proceed with the case, then.-“

“Absolutely.”

“Alright:”

Somehow, both of them lingered on for a while, unwilling to hang up.


	8. Chapter 8

Crowley had always known who and what he was. As both a demon and a businessman, he simply couldn’t allow himself to live in delusion; and so, he was mostly aware of his own wishes, desires and thoughts, unpleasant as they may sometimes have been.

Not that this was particularly unpleasant, but it had the potential to become so.

He had, in all honesty, expected that either Dean would need a little more time to decide what to do after the visit by Ketch his informants had… well, immediately informed him of; either because he was hesitating who to trust or wondering whether it might be a good idea to string his lot to the officials. Ad, whether he liked it or not, that was exactly who Ketch represented.

Instead he hadn’t hesitated a second. He had called Crowley to let him know, and he’d sounded genuine when he’d talked about Ketch – clearly, there was no love lost there.

How fascinating. It seemed he had underestimated him yet again.

And therein lay the danger.

It had been a long time since a human had last interested him so – resulting in a child who, most days, didn’t want anything to do with him. Not that he blamed Gavin – demons weren’t exactly good parents.

But he shield away from the thought, as always (just because he knew himself didn’t mean there were moments where he wished he didn’t).

No, this was about Dean.

Clever, beautiful Dean, who had apparently decided to follow Crowley without any care in the world.

This couldn’t just be because he was a paying client – he had rejected cases in the past, when he’d felt someone was in the wrong or they had no chance of winning; Crowley had naturally checked.

So what was it? Oh, they found each other attractive, that much was certain… but the rest…

Yes, he would have to be careful around Dean Winchester in a way he hadn’t been in a long time.

* * *

The rest of his day passed uneventfully. He made a few deals, threatened a few of his employees who didn’t show the kind of spirit he considered to be necessary, and all in all made some good money.

Unexpectedly, he found himself thinking of Dean again and what he would have done with it. He was aware the Winchester drove a classic car that he appeared to be rather fond of, and he’d certainly known what to order at Crowley’s restaurant, so there was definitely something of a man of the world in him – in other words, he had taste; obviously, otherwise he wouldn’t have enjoyed working with Crowley – but he’d probably use some of his wealth to help people, if such ever came to pass. He struck him as the person who would.

Crowley himself gave to charities now and again, mostly because it was amusing to see people react when they realized what he was, but he’d rarely wasted a thought on what they were doing with his donations.

And yet here he was, thinking of dean and charity and maybe charity events and, in short, Dean being dressed for charity events –

He shook his head. What was the matter with him, these days?

Still – once this was all over and done with. There was nothing to say against a bonus for Dean, should they win, of course, and Crowley was confident that they would. All he’d needed was one clever man to stir him through the labyrinth of legal language and procedure, and Dean, he felt, was certainly the right attorney for that.

He wondered what his brother would have said about all of this – he, who had run from Lawrence. How strange, that two brothers should be so different. Dean had stayed, had decided to do so, and stuck with his decision.

Listen to him. As if he’d known the man for years instead of weeks.

Crowley snapped his fingers and made a glass of Craig appear. He needed something to steady himself.

What was it about Dean Winchester, that was the question.

Or rather it wasn’t because again – he knew himself, and he knew what he liked.

And Deans Winchester, as handsome as clear, as loyal as cunning, as quick on his feet as carefuk, was a temptation. A rather big one.

Not that he had to give in, although it would probably be fun.

Well. There was a time and a place for everything.

And it wouldn’t be anything serious. It never was, with Crowley, not since that long-ago love affair that had resulted in Gavin; he always made sure of that.

Yes. Just a little fun, eventually, to take the edge off, make them both have a good time.

Exactly what they wanted and needed. A little flirting, a little fun in bed, a little adventure.

What could possibly go wrong with that plan?


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really sorry for the late chapter!

Dean might have gone on to study law, but he’d never forgotten where he’d come from and had always stayed in close contact with his friends, so it had come as no surprise to him that they hadn’t forgotten him either, and that as soon as he’d returned to Lawrence, Benny had invited him to his café. Ever since then, he’d make sure to visit at least once a week.

After Dad’s accident, he was pretty sure he’d actually ended up there every day for about half a year – he’d probably have starved if not for Benny.

And so, he walked into the café this afternoon too, feeling rather pleased with himself. He had definitely done the right thing when it came to Crowley and Ketch, and now had the complete trust of his client; granted, Ketch might be trouble down the line, but for now everything was going smoothly.

“Tell me you got pecan” he said.

“Hello to you too, Winchester. My day was good, thank you. I’m in good health.”

“All of that is wonderful to hear, the only thing that would make it even better would eb if you had pecan.”

“Kept a slice for year, all warm and read.”

“And that’s why you’re my favourite baker. That’s how you treat your clients.”

“Not so sure it would be a good idea if you started serving yours pies instead of affidavits, brother.”

Dean laughed. “probably not.”

Their banter, hew as sued to; and he was already in a good mood anyway.

Finally, Benny said, “Alright, out with it.”

“What do you mean?” he had just been sampling a particular excellent piece of the pie and was in no mood to recall what they had been bickering about exactly at the moment.

“Who are they?”

“They?” he asked, even though is mind started immediately going a mile a minute. Benny had been one of the first people he came out to (although back then, Dean had omitted that in their teenage years, he’d harboured a rather big crush on him – must have been the accent. Always the accents.) and so it was no surprise that he should use neutral pronouns; but as to how or why he should suddenly asked that when until now he had always been content to let Dean volunteer information.

And it wasn’t as if there was anything to talk about. There wasn’t.

Benny snorted. “Cut it off, brother. I know that sparkle in your eyes. You met someone special, I can tell. So, what’s their name?”

“I –“ he hesitated, but only for a moment. This was Benny, they had gotten each other into and out of scrapes since they had been kids. Hell, when Benny got into a bad lot while Dean had been studying, he’d flown back just to get him out of that wannabe motorcycle gang. “I – there is someone, yes. But it’s complicated.”

“Isn’t it usually with you?”

He ignored the comment. “They’re a client, for one thing.”

Despite being pretty sure that Benny had caught on, he was still playing the pronoun game, maybe just to delay the inevitable. But damn it, he wasn’t an attorney for nothing, and so he finally pressed on, “And he’s a demon.”

Benn stared at him, blinked, whistled. “Never do anything by halves, do you.”

Dean looked at him. ”Do you want to hear or not?”

Benny raised his hands in surrender.

“Anyway, so, a week back, I just go about my day, thinking nothing special, and suddenly my door opens and a demon strolls in. Suit, beard, green eyes – or red, depending. British.”

“Ah” Benny drawled in his heaviest Cajoun “An accent. That explains everything.”

Dean hoped against hope that he wasn’t blushing. “Anyway, so in he comes. Name’s Crowley –“

“Wait, Crowley enterprises? Haven’t they got their fingers in every pot in this town?”

“Something like it. Point is, he hasn’t gotten as many offers as he hoped and he’s pretty sure it has to do with the city’s attitude towards demon, so he wants to bring a law suit against discrimination of creatures.”

“That sounds… complicated.”

“It is… something new” Dean shrugged. “But really, anyone with a brain cell should rise that, as citizens, creatures are protected just like the rest of us.”

Benny shook his head.

“What?”

“The guy sounds exactly like your type. And he gave you a just cause to fight for. Let’s face it, brother, you never stood a chance the second he walked in.”

He was definitely blushing know. “Yeah, well, not as if anything can happen between us.”

“Why not? Doesn’t he like what he’s seeing? I find that heard to believe.”

“That’s’ not it… it’s just… well… complicated.”

Benny patted his shoulder. “Sometimes you just have to let things take their course. Let me know when you figure it out.”

It was strangely comforting to hear.


	10. Chapter 10

Dean should probably have seen something like this coming.

No, scratch, a part of him had seen it coming, and yet he had done nothing to prevent it. May it be because of a desire to finally become known to potential clients; or because deep down, he was enraged at the injustice of it all; or – yes, or because he actually wanted Sammy to see what he was getting up to without him, thank you very much…

One way or another, he woke up one day to the headline _Demon Calls For Equality In Lawsuit_ on his doorstep.

Again. He should have known.

But that wasn’t his first thought.

No, his first thought was that he had to call Crowley, a prospect that was far too pleasing, really, considering what they had to deal with.

Before he could do so, however, Bela called. “Don’t worry, it’s a well-meaning article.”

“How do you…” he trailed off when the penny dropped. “Am I to assume you got a friend somewhere?”

“I have many friends, as you well know.” She hesitated for a moment, then added, “But not that many real ones.”

And just like that, he knew she’d be at their side through thick and thin during this case. “Thanks, anyway.”

“I had a hunch that someone would notice, so I made sure the right persons did.”

“Thanks” he repeated before hanging up and calling Crowley.

He didn’t even say hello. “I assume Miss Talbot had something to do with this? Have you read it yet?”

“No, not yet.”

“It gives as much more optimistic and friendly account of our cause than I would have hoped.”

“Bela’s got friends in…” he hesitated than continued “Places.”

“You do seem to inspire loyalty, Squirrel.”

“Squirrel?”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t check your brother as well? He is most definitely the Moose.”

Dean was startled into laughter. “Alright, Boris.”

Dear God, less than two weeks and they already felt more like partners in crime than client and attorney.

“I’ll read it and get back to you.”

It quickly became clear that Bela and Crowley were right.

Not only did the article point out that “with the citizenship having been granted to creatures decades ago” it should be logical that they had access to the same protections as humans, it also spoke of “the up-and-coming attorney Dean Winchester from Winchester & Winchester” who had “taken the case on with vigour.”

He reminded himself to buy Bela some flowers, one of these days.

* * *

The story blew up. 

Again, he probably should have seen this coming.

The truth was either he nor Crowley had yet mentioned the fact that this was the first lawsuit of its kind concerning creatures, and that it had been bound to attract notice.

Even if they had, Dean probably wouldn’t have speculated on the New York Times and the Washington Post, though.

Well, it was one way to get known, as Crowley told him when he called him.

* * *

The article also brought another surprise, and Dean couldn’t say if it was a good or a bad one.

He’d just arrived back in the office after lunch, having brought Bela coffee since at this time of the day, she’d appreciate it more than a floral arrangement, when the phone rang.

He stared at the display. A part of him wouldn’t have believed it possible. “Heya, Sammy.”

He didn’t even react to being called such, proving that he was as agitated as he sounded as he began, “Dean, are you insane?”

He thought of having gone from hard-working but unknown attorney to crushing on a demon and being named in the papers within less than a month. “Possible, but at this point unlikely. Why?”

“Dean, this case – there is no way you can win!”

“So you don’t think we have reasonable grounds to suspect discrimination?”

A pause.

Later, Dean would think it was that pause that told him his brother wasn’t completely lost to him yet, even if it would take a while.

Then, “This is not about discrimination or the law. You know as well as I do, the way the population and more importantly judges think… they’ll rule against a demon as matter of course.”

“Oh?” Suddenly, remembering the “friends” Sam had picked up at Yale, Dean grew angry. “Who told you that? That dick Brady?”

“He did call me, yes, among others. Dean… I just don’t want you to embarrass yourself. You’ve still got time to step away so you won’t be associated with creatures for the rest of your life –“

“You know who you sound like?” he interrupted him coldly. “You sound like Dad.”

There would have been words after that, naturally, but he never heard them for he hung up.

Well then.

Looked like the battle lines had been drawn.

And he’d somehow unwittingly stumbled unto a side he hadn’t known much about a few weeks ago.

Yep, sure looked like he was doing this.


	11. Chapter 11

Bela was busy fielding calls from the press, which was just as well. Dean didn’t want her to know how upset he was.

Because he was. The call had unsettled him – not only because it had been Sammy and they hadn’t talked in over a year, but because he had gotten angry rather than sad or despondent and he didn’t know if that was a good thing.

“Squirrel, I can tell you that the articles have already brought me quite a bit of a reputation. Seems like I’ll be getting more – what’s wrong?”

Later, Dean would remember that this was the first time Crowley had beamed into his office directly but right now he couldn’t bring himself zo care.

Neither could he bring to lie. “Sam called. “

“Oh.”

He fully expected Crowley to leave, but instead he pushed him into a chair and handed him something to drink.

Upon swallowing a huge gulp, he quickly discovered through a coughing fit that it was alcoholic.

“Craig. Best thing for such problems.”

If he said so. Dean carefully took another sop. Oh, good quality, but he would have been surprised if it hadn’t been. “Thanks.”

Crowley was studying him, far more empathetic than Dean would have thought him capable of. “I take it it didn’t go well.”

He shrugged. “Told me I had no chance of winning, because of politic. Politics. We’ve sworn to uphold the law –“

“That’s the police.”

“You know what I mean! And he has the audacity to call me after a year of radio silence to once again nag at me…”

He ranted for a while before eventually calming down.

Crowley was still looking at him with that strange expression on his face. Eventually he said, “My son and I don’t see eye to eye either.”

“I didn’t know you had a son.” In all his research, that certainly hadn’t come up.

“For good reason. Most of the time, he doesn’t admit to our relations.”

“Any particular reason?”

He shrugged. “I guess I wasn’t a very good father.”

Dean wondered if he should ask, but before he could, Crowley added, “nothing openly abusive, if you mean to ask. At least I don’t think so; God knows what Gavin would say. It’s complicated.”

“Isn’t it usually. My life has been much easier since Dad wrapped himself round a lamppost. Isn’t that a nice thing to commemorate something by.” He emptied his gals. “Any more where that came from?”

“Yes, but I’m not sure it’s# the best idea.”

He was right, of course. “I just – Sam just up and left and now he wants to be the magnanimous brother who preserved me from making a maitakes. Not that I think this is a mistake.”

Somehow, ever since he had talked to Sammy, his determination had grown even stronger. In for a penny, in for a pound.

In with Crowley, of all people.

“Like I said. Family can be complicated.”

He nodded for lack of anything better to do.

They stared at one another and Dean found himself idly wondering if this demon he didn’t really know at all, this demon he had somehow linked himself to, was about to kiss him.

Trouble was, he had no idea if he would have welcomed such a move or not.

The moment, or lack thereof, was interrupted by Bela who came in, “Dean, I don’t think I can keep the Post – oh, hello, Mr. Crowley. I didn’t know you were here.”

“It’s Crowley, Miss Talbot” he said smoothly getting up, any weakness he had been showing long forgotten. “I have been assured by Dean that the mostly positive press is your work.”

“I might have made a few suggestions.”

“Thank you very much, Miss Talbot.”

“Yes, well… but I think Dean really needs to make a statement right now…”

He cleared his throat. “Yes. Of course. Put them through, please.”

And so, the wheel spun on.

* * *

It wasn’t that Dean had no experience whatsoever when it came to the media. He was a child of his time, after all. But the questions were relentless, and at the end of the day, he was exhausted, although he hoped he had at least conducted himself well enough.

He didn’t feel like cooking and upon coming home simply ordered his favourite pizza, only to turn o9n the TV and find that now CNN was talking about the story as well.

Wonderful.

Well, in a way, it was; he just hadn’t thought they’d be in such a hassle so soon.

And yet –

It was somewhat exciting, he couldn’t deny that. Certainly more exiting than the last few years had been.

And he still thought they could win. Let others think what they wanted.

And if he thought a little about Crowley and the moment they shared as he ate his dinner, that was his business alone.


	12. Chapter 12

Crowley wasn’t surprised at the media circus, but then, he rarely was surprised by anything, Dean Winchester being a notable exception.

And yet he was fated to _be_ surprised today.

While he would have preferred it if they could have kept this under wraps for a while longer, but thankfully Miss Talbot had reacted accordingly.

How lucky she apparently owed Dean several favours, or at least believed she had every reason to be grateful to him. Gratitude was always useful.

Still – Crowley had most definitely not counted on the coverage having the same effect on his life that it had on Dean’s, albeit in a slightly different manner.

When his phone rang, he didn’t think much of it. He fielded many calls in the course of a work day, and sometimes vent afterwards; one of the perks of being a demon was not having to sleep, after all.

Yet seeing Gavin’s name onscreen was rather surprising. “Hello” he still answered smoothly, he wasn’t Crowley for nothing.

“Father, what kind of PR-stunt is this? I thought you considered word of mouth a far better advertisement than something big and flashy.”

They might have had their differences, but he’d made sure that his son knew his way around his business. “And so I continue to think.”

“Then why the lawsuit?”

“For one because we creatures have been trodden on for too long.” After a pause he added, “Also I really want to annoy Arthur Ketch”.

“Knew you had ulterior motives” Gavin sighed, but didn’t sound nearly as annoyed as Crowley would have expected, something as explained when he continued, “But at least it’s a good cause. And that lawyer seems competent – Winchester, they said?”

“Yes. Dean Winchester. Has a small firm in town, taken over from his father.”

“I know a Winchester working at Manson’s in New York… any relation, by any chance?”

A surge of pride swelled in his breast. _Scheming, gathering information, deducing. That’s my boy_. “As a matter of fact I have every reason to believe that he’s Dean’s brother.”

“In that case you’re in good hands. If he’s only half as sharp as that one… however, Father, I should tell you that he’s ready to defend anything as long as he gets the money. If this Dean is – ”

“Dean is a man of principles don’t worry. He actually… he actually got upset when his brother called to tell him that the chances aren’t good enough for him to take the case.”

“Hm.”

To say he sounded sceptical would have been an understatement.

“Dean wouldn’t act like that” he said indignantly.

“For how long have you known him, then? A while, I take it, if you’re so sure?”

“I have known him for long enough.”

“Wait, why are you – Father, could it be that you don’t know him well at all?”

“I told you, I know him well enough.”

“Fine, then when did you meet?”

“Two weeks and three days ago” he finally told him the truth because it was the easiest way.

A pause.

Then, “So you are sleeping with him?”

“I don’t know how that happens to be any of your business, but no.”

“In that case, I have no idea why you would trust him. You don’t trust most people you are sleeping with.”

That happened to be true. “I simply believe I have covered everything to my satisfaction, that is all.”

“That doesn’t sound like you. You always have a back-up plan… unless you actually want to lose the case spectacularly to Ketch?”

That had, in fact, been part of his back-up plan until he’d met Dean and every thought of that had flown out the window. “No, I am planning to win this.”

“With Dean”: It was flatly said.

“Exactly.”

Gavin was silent again, then asked, “Father, can I – I just want to – I just realized – “

Crowley (extraordinarily patiently for him, if he said so himself) waited unto he’d gathered his thoughts.

Still, what came next surprised him.

“Do you like Dean?”

“He is a most competent attorney.”

“That wasn’t what I was asking, and you know it.”

During the times when they got along better – and apparently this suddenly was the case once more – Gavin had often inquired whether Crowley had any intention of settling down, mostly because he had done so at the earliest opportunity with the admittedly rather captivating Fiona.

He had never had any intention of doing so, and he certainly wasn’t about to start now. He was much too old for such nonsense.

And yet, somehow, he found himself hesitating. “I…”

“Oh my God, you do.”

“This is hardly an appropriate subject for father and son.”

“That’s what you always say when you don’t want to talk about things” he complained.

“Imagine that” he drawled, ending the call soon after.

God, all he’d had to say was that he didn’t like Dean.

So why hadn’t he been able to bring himself to`?


	13. Chapter 13

Well, it had been quite the day, Dean would say that. With the interviews, work on his normal cases, and Sammy calling…

Sammy.

He’d known when he left that his brother had accepted some of the truths that were peddled about at Yale a little too easily. Dean liked to think that, even if he hadn’t had Dad to come home to, he would have been careful to choose cases that weren’t morally reprehensible but brought money; whereas Sam…

His brother was a good man, deep down, Dean was sure of that; but he wasn’t certain that _Sam_ still knew that. There was something so callous about telling him that he should simply let a client drop like a hot potato because according to Sam he had no chance of winning, something so mercenary he had never associated with his brother.

Not with the boy he’d played superheroes with.

He sighed. One problem at a time. Win the case, and perhaps eventually make amends. If Sam was even willing to, if he even wanted to. Maybe he just saw him as a lose attorney with a failing firm who had hitched his card to a lost cause because he didn’t know any better.

He hadn’t though. He knew that much. He had done his research – and of cores he knew all about how the protections of the law had slowly (much too slowly, if you asked him) been expanded towards minorities – so this should be a no.-brainer.

Trouble was that in some ways, Sam was right. There would always be judges who would find a way to deny people their rights just because they thought they shouldn’t have them; and they would need one who actually had a brain and a moral compass.

That said, Crowley certainly knew all about the judges in their district…

Hm. Might be a bit sketchy, but for a good cause…

Dean was no stranger to such methods. Sometimes you had to use subterfuge and half-truths; it was just an unfortunate part of the job.

At least he was well aware that Crowley was no stranger to any of these things, either.

And he had surprised him today. He hadn’t had to comfort him after that disastrous call with Sam, or even listen to him, and yet he had done his east to make him feel better.

But why? Just so eh wouldn’t ruin things with the press? But many lawyers had survived bad interviews…

He really should stop thinking about it. Because then, he might start to speculate that Crowley – that a demon – actually liked him, liked Dean Winchester, and that might leads to wondering what would happen if –

_Bad idea. Very bad ideal. Colossally bad idea. You know this._

_So let it go._

Easier said then done.

* * *

As had to be expected, the interest of the news cycle soon moved on, giving Dean all the more time to focus on the case and totally not on Crowley.

Who was he kidding? Of course he was also focusing on Crowley, he just happened to be an excellent multi-tasker.

At least they wee slowly but surely building up the case. The files of the city planning divison of the past five years, in which Ketch had been responsible, certainly spoke a language of its own.

Not one company run by non-humans had gotten any contracts. Not one.

And since there was always at least one mentioned as an alibi, that certainly allowed for certain conclusions. Granted, there was the animosity between him and Crowley (and Dean now, he guessed) which might complicate things, but if Ketch brought that into play, he would have to admit that he didn’t like the demon, either, so there was that.

And so, life went on.

He had half-expected, half-feared, half-hoped that Sammy would all again, maybe to explain or even apologize, but it didn’t happen. He was probably busy winning all sorts of lucrative cases and wondering when his brother had turned into such a useless softie.

He didn’t mention it to anyone, least of all Crowley, but it troubled him.

One afternoon the demon must have sensed his mood, for he invited him to dinner.

“Ketch hasn’t been in touch, has he” he asked as soon as they had sat down.

“No, don’t worry.”

“Ah.”

It was the kind of ah that made Dean instantly suspicious. “What is it?”

“It means you’re upset” Crowley answered simply “because _someone else_ hasn’t been in touch.”

How he had come to know him so well already, Dean had no idea.

“I think this is the part where I ask if you want to talk about it?”

“As a matter of fact I don’t, but thanks anyway.”

somehow, this was more comforting than any actual comfort could have been.

Even if it was equally confusing.


	14. Chapter 14

It happend gradually.

And really, it was far from Crowley’s faults that law suits took so long. Especially when it came to such things as discrimination, because as everyone knew, it wasn’t like that was a pressing problem that needed to be dealt with.

The point was, ion the meantime, there were quite a few other things that demanded his attention, some minor legal problems among them. Firms, after all, were breeding grounds for all kinds of cases, something Dean would undoubtedly have agreed with him on.

He had so far been content with the attorneys who had represented him, but really, all things considered, didn’t it make more sense to keep it all in one place?

Granted, he didn’t have to go to Winchester & Winchester for anything else, but well…

And so, a week later, he strolled into Dean’s office again.

“Do you think you’ll ever knock?” he greeted him, looking up from the file.

“I don’t see the necessity.”

“Of course not, your Highness. What is it?”

Once he’d explained that e client had refused to pay, Dean got up. “Don’t worry we’ll have that fixed soon enough. Name and address?”

He shook his head when he heard the name. “Don’t you know I’ve already sued that guy several times? When are you businessmen going to learn that he doesn’t pay?”

Crowley had assumed that his reputation would be enough to ensure that he did, in fact, pay for his services, but had sadly been mistaken. Not that he was ready to admit it.

“But this makes things easier” Dean said simply, going through a drawer of files next to the door. “Ah, there it is.”

And right in front of Crowley, he called the firm in question, getting a secretary.

“Yes, hello? Ah, yes, Chuck, isn’t it? Your boss isn’t paying for Mr. Crowley’s … yes, I know, he has to sign off on all payments, not your fault, yada yada yada. Now, here’s what’s going to happen. This time I am actually going to put the fear of God into him – yes, I mean it – you know I can, and I will. So tell him that.”

He hung up.

“Has his experiences with you, has he?”

“Chuck’s a bit of a pushover” Dean shrugged. “Probably why he’s still working for that idiot. But I assure you, you’ll have your money by the end of the week.”

This happened indeed, and so it proved that Dean Winchester was much more effective than other lawyers Crowley had employed over the years.

After that, it only made sense that he should send any little problems that came to mind Dean’s way.

Dean quickly got used to him “beaming over”, as he persisted in calling it.

Yes, things were progressing rather nicely, even if he said so himself.

The trouble was, he couldn’t quite say _how_ he wanted them to proceed.

Or why it was important.

* * *

“I was thinking about your other associate. Might he not be of assistance?” Bela told him one day.

Dean, who was busy going through the accounts of a client – there was something fishy in there, he just knew it, and he didn’t trust that bookkeep of theirs one bit – and the firm had been clients of theirs ever since Dad started out, so he was determined to get to the bottom of this – and so didn’t really answer except for a non-committal _hm_.

“Dean?”

He looked up. “What is it?”

“I asked if we don’t have another who could help you?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Well, Cowley is bound to show up any moment now for his daily unnecessary briefing, and so…”

Against his better reason, he blushed. “He just likes to be informed, is all. And sometimes he has other cases…”

“Not often” she pointed out correctly, and he just bet his face was scarlet now. “And really, I think he’s rather out for the company than for anything else…”

“Nonsense.”

“If you say so. But you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed him checking you out. He does that all the time.”

Yes, of course, he knew. They were attracted to one another. So what? What couldn’t be couldn’t be, and if they were to… it could reflect badly on the case. Some kind of gay interspecies couple bands together to ruin man’s life sort of thing, or at least that was how Ketch would spin it, Dean was certain.

She sighed. “You’re hopeless.”

“I happen to disagree, Miss Talbot” Crowley’s smooth voice interrupted them as he walked up to the desk. “But seems like you’re stuck. Anything I can help you with?”

“You good at bookkeeping?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Of course. At the beginning I did it all by myself.”

Wordlessly, Dean slid the books his way, carefully and deliberately ignoring Bela’s snigger behind Crowley’s back.


	15. Chapter 15

Naturally, Ketch brought on objection after objection. This wasn't even a court case, the case wasn’t relevant enough, Crowley wasn’t the recipient of protection under bla bla bla…

Dean dismantled them one by one, of course, making sure the case would at least be heard. That was where their chance lay. Play the publicity right, show people what was going on, make them realize.

Only that one day he came to the realization that he _himself_ didn’t really know what was going on. Yeah, he had been to Crowley’s restaurant a few more times, but that was about all. He still didn’t have much contact with creatures, apart from Crowley, and shouldn’t he do that?

And so, he did his best to remedy that fact.

One day – Crowley had shown up again and Dean raised no objection to his presence, it was certainly more fun working with him around, although how he was leading his businesses and at the same time hanging around he had no idea – he decided to grab the bull by the horns. “Would it be possible for me to meet other creatures?”

Crowley blinked, his eyes turning red. Dean had soon learned that this happened when he was relaxed around someone and tried his best not to let show that it made him feel pleased as punch that he was counted amongst those who could elicit that reaction. “What do you mean?”

“Well” he shrugged. “I don’t think it will look particularly good if I stand there arguing civil rights for creatures when I, in fact, could easily claim “Hey, I’ve got no problem with it, I’ve got _one_ demon friend””. That’s hardly enough. Any lawyer worth their money would tear into me for that, believe me.”

Crowley was staring at him, apparently… shocked?

“Unless you don’t think it’s a good idea….”

“I… no, no, I can see how this… this is actually…”

He was flustered. Good God, what was going on? Why was he flustered? He’d never seen Crowley flustered, nor expected to do so. Not the demon he had come to know.

“Everything alright?”

“Yes. Of course. Perfectly. Why wouldn’t it be? Everything is fine. Yes. So. Creatures. You want to meet creatures. There’s a vernissage tomorrow, from Gilda Glimmerstone. She’s one of our best fairy artists.” He waited for a moment.” Good call.”

“It wasn’t worth the derogatory joke.”

“Yes. Well. I can – I mean, we could go there. Normally I only show up for a short time – her style is very… colourful, not really what I prefer – but we could… go there. Yes.”

“Alright.”

When Crowley didn’t continue, Dean hinted, “pick you up at your place? Say, around seven?”

He knew where Crowley lived from his file, of course, but was still surprised when the demon simply acquiesced and disappeared without saying another word, as if...

Really, this had all been very strange.

Dean slowly went over the conversation in his head again, but still needed to do so three more times before it clicked.

_I’ve got one demon friend._

He’d called Crowley a friend.

He kind of was, wasn’t he? They certainly hung out a lot, even if it happened to br in Dean’s office, and they went out to lunch and dinner sometimes – Albert even greeted him by name now – and he couldn’t deny that he was good company…

So yes, they were friends. But why had Crowley been so shocked? Had he been angry, was there like some unspoken rile that forbid demons from being friends with humans? But then why did he insist on showing up? Why did he spend time with Dean? Why would he even have chosen a human attorney to begin with, then?

It didn’t make any sense.

Unless…

Unless, he suddenly realized.

Unless no one else had ever called Crowley a friend before. It seemed almost incredible, but he certainly wasn’t sued to it; no, that had been the reaction of someone who had no idea what to do with the information he had been given and was desperate to reprocess it even as he scrambled to understand the meaning of it all.

Dear Lord, was it really that bad for demons nowadays?

But then, Crowley had been around for a while. He would have suffered persecution and repercussions for years. He would simply never have gotten into the habit of making friends, of making the attempt to understand folk and maybe change their minds when it came to demons. Eh would have tried to fly under the radar during they ears where they still burned witches and creatures, certainly… and afterwards… well, successful businessmen not always perfect friends made, as anyone with a brain could have pointed out.

Still It seemed kind of… sad.

Way too sad, if you asked Dewan. The guy was, after all, still a demon.

Well. A demon with a friend he wouldn’t lose once the case was over

He’d make sure of that.


	16. Chapter 16

He actually planned to go home and change, but then, as usually, something demanded his immediate attention and now he didn’t have the time.

Dean repressed the urge to curse as he stood in their office bathroom, doing his best to make himself look representable.

“Please, come off it. You look nice.”

Of course it would be one of those days where Bela stayed longer, too.

He sighed. “I just thought…”

“Yes, yes, I know, you want to impress your date.”

He coloured. “It’s not a date.”

It wasn’t. For God’s sake, the guy had almost had a heart attack because Dean had insinuated they were friends. God knew what would happen if it was something more – not that it was, or would ever be – but still. He certainly wasn’t going to make his client ( _remember that. Client._ Client) uncomfortable., And so, he would simply go to Crowley’s, they’d look at some art, he’d meet some more creatures, and that would be it.

Yes. A good plan.

Only he would have really liked to have his best suit…

With a dramatic sigh, Bela drew something out of her purse. “Here. Take this.”

It was a new dark-red tie complete with a pocket handkerchief.

“Crowley’s most likely going to wear something along these liens, so I thought it’d be cute if you matched.”

Both pieces were of excellent quality; they must have cost her a bit. “Bela…”

“Dean, when I first arrived in town, you were the only open to give me a chance.”

Well. A legal one, he was ready to bet. Still. “I just…”

“Now come on, change your tie, comb your hair, and off you are to woo your crush.”

He didn’t even protest. It would only have egged her on.

* * *

Crowley was not in the habit of being nervous before meetings, may they be professional or otherwise.

So why had he already changed his clothes three times? All his suits were of excellent quality (unlike Dean’s; once they’d whipped his firm into shape, he would make a few suggestions to remedy this fact someone should definitely teach him how to dress himself better, his looks certainly deserved that) so really, it made no difference.

And it wasn’t like he wanted to look good for Dean specifically. Just the implication was enough to make him laugh. He, Crowley, trying to impress someone? Of course not. He would never. Others were simply impressed by who he was, and that was it.

And then – even if he had wanted to – there would have been no reason to try and impress Dean, because he apparently had already succeeded in doing so.

No one had ever called him a friend before. No one. Not other demons or creatures, and most definitely not humans. Gavin had had moments where he’d not even called him Father, and as for his mother… that was a subject best avoided, especially if he wanted the evening to be a success.

And so, he fled from the thought and concentrated on being called a friend. It was a strange idea, to be a friend to someone. But he and dean certainly did things friends were supposed to do, didn’t they? And he even _liked_ doing them when the attorney was concerned. It wasn’t like with so many other people, who were annoying at worst and tolerable at best. No, Dean was different…

He stared at his tie again. Should he change one more time?

His phone rang. For one moment, he feared that Dean would cancel, but instead it was Gavin. “Father.”

Apparently the law suit had genuinely impressed him, and he was now ready to play nice once more. Well. Crowley had had worse surprises. “Gavin.”

“Fiona and I have been wondering if we’ll see you at Gilda’s vernissage?”

Oh God. How could he have forgotten that these two never missed one? “Yes.”

_Play it smooth, play it smooth, play it smooth._

“Why do you sound weird?”

“I’m not.”

“Yes you do”. A pause. Then, suddenly, “Oh my God, you’re taking someone with you, aren’t you?”

“And what if I was?”

“You never invite anyone to come with you to such things! It has to be someone very special –“

He stopped talking abruptly and Corley prayed that he hadn’t put the pieces together, but of course he had. “It’s Dean, isn’t it.”

“Mr. Winchester let me know he wished to meet more of our kind, and I certainly didn’t object. It will look better in court if he is well-versed amongst creatures.”

“Of course. And that is the only reason.”

“I can think of no other.”

Gavin muttered something where the word _hopeless_ most definitely played a roll, but Crowley ignored it. “Well then. I cannot wait to meet him.”

Sadly, Crowley had the feeling that this was indeed true.

Thankfully the doorbell rang out and he had to hang up before Gavin could make another quip.


	17. Chapter 17

Crowley had known that Dean Winchester was a man of taste – he would hardly offered him friendship if he wasn’t and so he wasn’t surprised in the least that the car that his – friend had driven here to take them to the vernissage was as exquisite as he had assumed upon reading about it.

“67?” he asked.

“Exactly.”

“Always preferred them to the ‘54”

“Man after my own heart.”

At that, _Crowley’s_ heart started to make very strange jumps, which was idiotic, of course – he was a demon, immune to any such disease.

What was Dean Winchester doing to him? It was far from the first time he had wondered as much.

“Yes, well, thought we might arrive in style. The one good thing my old man left to me, expect for the firm.”

Crowley could have easily argued that it the car was infinitely more valuable – Dean would have been much farther than he was these days, if he didn’t have to look after what his father had wrought – but chose not to. His was supposed to be a friendly outing, wasn’t it?

Plus, Dean looked really rather fetching… “Haven’t seen this tie before.”

As a matter of fact, it almost perfectly matched Crowley’s.

He shrugged. “Bela gave it to me as a gift.”

Somethings welled up in his breast, and he needed a moment to recognize it for what it was.

Jealousy.

Dear God, why should he be jealous? He had no say as to what his attorney got up to in his spare time, and Bela Talbot was as beautiful as she was clever – even he might have been tempted if it hadn’t been for – well…

Let him just say that he had a heard time seeing anyone else as long as Dean Winchester was in the room.

More than that. He hadn’t even felt the slightest inclination towards any fleeting adventure since Dean Winchester entered his life.

It was slightly disconcerting, but also rather exhilarating, all things considered. And he had only seldom been able to resit the temptation when things got interesting.

“So, anything I should know? Don’t want to breech some rules of etiquette I don’t know about.”

“Don’t worry. Fiona is a fairy, and they’ve always been remarkably close to human. As to any other creature, that’s what you’ve got me for.”

Dean glanced at him. “I suppose I have.”

But what he wanted to say with that, Crowley had no idea.

* * *

He would admit one thing: Dean had managed to completely and utterly make him forget that Gavin and Fiona were waiting for them; as a matter of fact his son hailed them as soon as they had entered the gallery. “Father!” he turned to his wife: “And you must be Dean.”

“Correct”. They shook hands. “And you’d be –“

“Gavin.”

“Ah. Your son” he addressed Crowley. “Good looks run in the family, huh?”

He desperately hoped Dean wasn’t flirting with Gavin, but he couldn’t be sure. Thankfully, Fiona decided to intervene at that moment.

“We’ve heard a lot about you”. A lie, of course; what little they knew they had all but forced him to tell them, and that he had done only reluctantly. “I think it’s great that you help Crowley with the lawsuit.”

“About time, if you ask me” Dean shrugged. “Humans have been looking down on creatures for long enough. We’re all just people underneath it all, aren’t we?”

It became quickly obvious that both Gavin and Fiona were utterly enchanted with Dean. Small wonder, Crowley had already noticed that he was sure to turn heads wherever he went.

But he was here with him, and that was the important part, if you asked him.

And really, now that he knew Gavin and Fiona, they could simply –

“Oh hello, Fergus.”

Oh God. There was only one person who ever called him that, a name she very well knew he despised mostly because she had given it to him. How it had haunted him in his childhood – he’d let go of it as soon as he could, fleeing her house once he was grown, sometimes living from hand to mouth as a young demon…

He closed his eyes for a moment but when he opened them, his mother was still there.

“What a beautiful companion you’ve found for the night” as if she didn’t know all about their case, he was ready to bet “Why don’t you introduce me?”

He had no choice, of course. To Dean’s credit, he immediately seemed to guess that something was wrong, and his eyes flattered to Crowley more than once to make sure he was alright.

Fiona definitely noticed it too, if her approving smile was anything to go by.

And Crowley even found that it was much easier to deal with his mother’s presence when Dean was there.

Gavin and Fiona must never know.

Otherwise they’d undoubtedly start planning the wedding.


	18. Chapter 18

Uh oh. If there was one thing Dean was capable of immediately recognizing, it was deadbeat parents, and the second who turned out to be Crowley’s mother stepped up to them, he could hear the alarm bells ringing.

Yep, Crowley was stiffening, and Gavin and Fiona – who really seemed to be alright, Crowley should make more of an effort to stay in touch, he should probably make sure – but it wasn’t like he had any right to – anyway, the point was, Crowley was clearly uncomfortable in the admittedly still beautiful woman’s presence, and that was never a good sign. As a a matter of fact, it was the very opposite of good.

“Dean Winchester” he introduced himself in his most charming matter, beating Crowley to it, “I’m a friend of Crowley’s.”

“Oh?” her eyes glanced over to her son, who was trying to win back his composure – _don’t worry, Dean thought, I got you, just relax, take a few deep breaths, been there, done that_ – “I didn’t think he had any friends.”

“Well, obviously he does” he said cheerfully, “Otherwise he wouldn’t have invited me.”

“Only you’re a bit more than a friend, aren’t you?”

Dean swallowed; was it that obvious?

“I mean you’re helping him to sue the city!”

Ah. That. Now that, he could handle. He shrugged. “Well, you know how it is. He became my client, and then we grew – closer.”

Because that didn’t have any strange implications at all, did it.

Great. Just great. Why didn’t he just announce to the lady that he had a crush on her son, something she, if Crowley’s expression was anything to go by, would be undoubtedly be using against them both?

“Yes, and when we heard about it all, of course we had to ask to meet Dean” Fiona fell in and he understood that she, too, had acted as a buffer before.

No surprise there. If she didn’t like her son, she probably didn’t treat her grandson much better.

“And there are more than enough reasons, I bet” she said, obviously checking Dean out. Now, normally he wouldn’t have had any problems being flirted with, but he did have something against parents who treated their children like crap and she was now all but ignoring Crowley.

“Yes, anyway, so we met, sorry, but Crowley promised to introduce me to the artist” he said quickly, grabbing his arm and dragging him away. “I take it that Mummy dearest’s appearance wasn’t planned?” he whispered as they walked quickly towards the woman who was clearly identified as a fairy by her wings – delicate and see-through like a butterfly’s – alone.

“No.” Crowley shuddered, then shook his head. “I have to apologize. I am not in the habit of –“

No, he wasn’t in the habit of losing control, probably exactly because his mother had never let him have any until, he’d left.

“Hey, I get it. Trust me, I really get it.” After a pause, he added, “Dad and I – well, you most likely already guessed that it wasn’t exactly a partnership that dreams are made of. And that’s putting it mildly.”

“I am not surprised” Crowley admitted, and they move forward.

Gilda was glad to see them. “Crowley!”

She glanced at his arm, and belatedly Dena realized he hadn’t yet let go of it.

Gilda didn’t seem to mind, if anything, she smiled even more wildly. “You’ve brought company. You usually don’t.”

“I wanted to see your works, and I can be very persuasive, Miss” he grinned.

“Gilda is enough.” HE was starting to wonder if that was some kind of _all-_ creature custom he had never heard of – the whole sticking with one name business. “I’ll gladly show you around a bit – ”

Over the course of the evening – Crowley had quickly regained his composure – Dean came to realize that the demon was by no means an outlier. Creatures were just like humans, really, if some a little bit more bloodthirsty than others.

Literally.

He was busy talking about cars with a vampire he’d accidentally run into as they had both been studying a painting of a garage overgrown with flowers, which naturally had led to that very topic, when he became aware Crowley had come to stand behind him. “Dean? Gavin and Fiona insist we have a drink with them.”

Strange they hadn’t simply followed him then, but when he apologized to the vampire, who had been interested to hear all about his Baby, since he himself drove a Mustang, there was definitely amusement in his eyes.

Oh.

And now it was Crowley’s hand on his arm.

Someone was jealous.

It should have worried Dean, but instead, his heart starting beater faster.

Seemed like it was time to make a decision.

He didn’t relinquish his hold on him.

Yes definitely time. 


	19. Chapter 19

Crowley contained to be somewhat subdued even after they had found Gavin and Fiona, but the two seemed to be more amused by it than anything else.

Dean himself was feeling slightly conflicted.

He really shouldn’t do this.

But on the other hand, he really, _really_ wanted to do this.

And he knew from experience that, when he wanted to do something he shouldn’t, he usually ended up doing it anyway. May it be that he’d snuck out in the night when he’d been a teen to meet Benny and others Dad considered a bad influence; or that he had taken the Impala for a joyride (really, he had always paid more attention to it than Dad, if he was being honest); or that he had now and then smoked a joint when it had been forbidden even in their county; but he usually ended up doing what felt right even if he knew it not to be.

Yes, he was Crowley’s attorney. Yes, they were in the middle of what could turn out to be a landmark case.

And nothing of that mattered in the least because he happened to want him badly enough.

Fiona brushed past him, her eyes laughing. She knew. She most definitely knew.

She was probably some kind of psychic; so far, Dean hadn’t yet figured out the etiquette of asking someone about their possible powers.

Then again, one hardly needed any to see that he was pretty gone on Crowley, if the vampire’s reaction was anything to go by.

And Crowley seemed to be gone on him too, although he couldn’t be certain this wasn’t just something physical. But if so, he’d find a way to deal, he always did.

Really, it was a bit ridiculous, wasn’t it? They were, after all, two grown men who could separate business and pleasure. Hell, he didn’t know how old Crowley was, but it had to be at least a hundred years although the Lord knew he didn’t look like it.

And so, Dean decided to grab the bull by the horns.

Crowley had at least mellowed somewhat by the time they left the vernissage – he had purchased another once of Gilda’s paintings, the one Dean had admired, the garage, even though he’d insisted it was just for one of his office buildings – and went back to the Impala.

“Gotta say, that went well” Dean said as soon as he sat behind the wheel.

“I had no doubt that it would. There were certainly enough creatures ready to admire you” Crowley answered.

Ah, still grumpy, then.

“Come on, it wasn’t like I was trying to flirt up a storm.”

He didn’t point out that technically Crowley didn’t have any say in who he flirted with and if he flirted at all because in truth. They had gone passed any stage of uncertainty tonight. They both knew, they were just sill pretending they didn’t.

“This vampire certainly seemed taken with you.”

Time to bring out the big guns. “What, Mustang guy? Oh yes, he would be quite handsome, trouble is, he can’t go for two minutes without mentioning his wife” he replied, perhaps a tad pointedly.

“You didn’t tell me that.”

“You hardly gave me the time, did you.”

After a pause that went on for so long that Dean began to suspect that he wouldn’t answer at all, he finally replied, “I suppose I didn’t.”

Well, it was as much an admission as eh could expect, he supposed.

Silence settled over them, a strange thing ion-between comfortable and anything but.

Dean hadn’t become an attorney without developing a feeling for the moment, and when they stopped at Crowley’s place, he knew that this was one of them.

Take it or leave it. Jump or stay put. Stay or go.

Well then, unto the breach.

But – rather characteristically, all things considered – it was Crowley who broke the silence and finally said out loud what they had been avoiding so far. “This is really rather inconvenient.”

“I know.”

Would’ve been so much easier if they just met in a bar one night, really.

And then, Crowley’s hand again – this time, not on his arm, though. No, there it was, a comforting hand on his thigh, and Dean swallowed.

“This might be a mistake, but I really think you should come up with me.”

“Oh? Want to offer me a coffee?”

“I was more thinking of a night cup” Crowley’s thumb started to ever so gently (real Dean wouldn’t have thought him capable of it) stroking his thigh. “And maybe… a few other things.”

Yes. There it was.

Alright.

He took a deep breath, studying the hand on his leg. “I actually think it’s a pretty good idea.”

He surprised a snigger when he glanced up at Crowley’s face.

Apparently he’d achieved the impossible again. 

He’d actually managed to surprise the demon.


	20. Chapter 20

Things had progressed rather… swiftly after that, even if Dean said so himself.

Crowley had quickly lost all the shyness he’d shown across the vernissage – later, Dean would eland that a lot of that had to do with the fact that this was, in fact, more than he’d allowed himself to believe, but how was he to have known that then? – and, as soon as the door had closed behind them, he’d pushed him against said door and kissed him thoroughly.

Not that Dean had objected much. It had been very nice, to say the least.

Even with his natural curiosity, he had sparely spared Crowley’s place a glance; there had been more… pressing matters to attend to.

He rolled on his back and exhaled “Alright that was awesome.”

“I am glad that you seem to be rating my performance satisfactory.”

He rolled his eyes and grabbed a pillow to hit Crowley with. “Shut up, you know you enjoyed it too.”

Apparently surprising both Dean and himself, he answered “I did.”

They were silent for a few moments until Dean asked, “Now what?”

Crowley groaned. “I was hoping we could postpone this discussion until tomorrow morning.”

“Thought demons don’t need to sleep.”

“Doesn’t mean we don’t like it.”

Silence fell until Dean pointed out “This isn’t going to go away though, and neither am I.”

“I am beginning to see that.”

He resisted the urge to slap him with the pillow again. “Come on, it can’t be that bad of a night, right? We had fun, didn’t we?”

He was beginning to feel rather self-conscious. Mostly because – well, this wasn’t just fun, not for him, but if Crowley should decide it was…

_Oh stop it. Put on your big boy pants and deal with it._

“Do you want me to le-“

“No!”

The vehemence of his answer rather surprised Dean, but it also made him feel rather hopeful. “Yes. Alright. Good. Well. You know, some of us need their beauty sleep, so –“

“I don’t think” Crowley interrupted him “You have ever needed beauty sleep in your life.”

Dean still didn’t know what to think until Crowley suddenly and without fanfare drew him into his arms.

Alright.

He could work with that.

Sleep came surprisingly easy, after that.

* * *

So.

This, Crowley had to admit to himself, was far more than he had so far allowed himself to consider.

Mostly because Dean seemed to think it was more, too.

He had rarely ever truly shared a bed with someone – not since Gavin’s mother, if he was being honest, and that had gone wrong in a spectacular fashion.

He didn’t blame her for not wanting to be with a demon, especially in those times, but words had fallen, and feelings he didn’t admit to even now had been hurt – by both of them – and well…

And yet Dean had never shown any resentment, not when it came to him being a demon, and he had taken socializing with creatures like a fish to water.

And he’d fallen asleep in his rms like it was nothing.

It didn’t mean nothing to Crowley, and wasn’t that just the trouble he hadn’t know he was looking for.

It was true that he didn’t need to sleep; it was a past time he had only rarely engaged in over his lifetime.

But somehow, slipping into dreams with Dean in his arms was the easiest thing in the world.

* * *

Of freaking course his phone would wake him up after open of the most awesome nights in his life.

Dean cranked an eye open as he fished for the trousers he desperately hopped (and as he turned out where) somewhere at the side of the bed.

He didn’t even bother to check who it was, which he probably should have done, all things considered.

“Now you’re dating him???”

“And a very good morning to you too, Sammy” he said smoothly, turning around and finding Crowley out cold – although he did still have a rather possessive grasp on his hip, which Dean liked more than he cared to admit.

“Why the hell did you go out with him?”

“You mean the vernissage?”

“Yes, imagine that – it’s all over social media!”

“I’m starting to think you’re obsessed with me, tracking me like that.”

“Dean – do you even know how this looks like? And a client, too!”

“So that’s what got your panties in a twist? Or is it that I’m with a demon?”

“Dean –“ but suddenly, miraculously, Sam interrupted himself only to observe, ins kind of strange voice, “You – you actually like him, don’t you?”

“Yep” he said simply, “But seems like you don’t really care about that, either, do you?”

“Dean –“

And then, for the second time, he actually hung up on his brother.

He wanted to enjoy this morning and he was going to, damn it all.


	21. Chapter 21

Dean would have liked to say that he was definitely enjoying breakfast with Crowley (well, second breakfast. First breakfast had been… but that was something else entirely).

In truth, his mind was going a mile a minute.

Because – well – Ketch and his attorneys were out there trying to draw out the case as long as they could, and so far, there was no pressure from either the courts or the public to act in any way.

So they had to create that pressure, and in a way that it would end up positive for them.

And so…

“We could use this” he said suddenly when Crowley handed him another piece of toast.

He raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“This. Us. We could use it. For the case.”

“I see.” Crowley sounded carefully neutral.

Dean looked at him, then shook his head. “I didn’t mean that this is just a means to an end.”

“I wasn’t worried.”

“Of course not. What I mean is, what if we go public? I’m not just an attorney I’m, also a human who gets along with creatures and… well… is dating one.”

It was only when he said I out loud that he realized that they had not said a single word about dating yet, so he quickly pressed on. “I mean, Sam called just to complain because we went to the vernissage together and apparently it’s all over social media.”

“You know for someone who tries not to have anything to do with you, your brother is rather obsessed.”

He shrugged. “Not my problem.”

“No. I suppose it’s not.” Crowley took a sip of his tea (of course. British to the core, despite his years in the States) and then began, rather carefully, Dean thought, “This plan would of course mean that we do act as if we are dating.”

A small stab of pain, but Dean didn’t show it. “Yes, we would.”

“So… spend a lot of our time together.”

“Yep.”

“Like I could show up at your office and drag you to lunch.”

“Correct”.

“And you’d meet my family, of course.”

“Also yes.”

They stared at one another. Then Dean said, “Fuck, we’ve been dating this whole time anyway, haven’t we?”

Crowley dragged him into a kiss; he decided that this was a rather good answer.

* * *

“You’ve done it now” Bela informed him as he stepped into his office somewhat later than usual. “Twitter’s blowing up. Seems quite a few people hung around after your press stunts because they think you’re hot, and now they’re quite fascinated with your little creature boyfriend.”

“Good. Makes theme see they’re normal folks like us.”

“And that is the same suit you wore yesterday” she observed further, “So I guess I don’t have to ask who much of that speculation that you and Crowley are indeed more than friends is true.”

“It’s nice to have observant employees”.

“Oh you know me, I’m nothing if not interested.”

Then, for a moment, she let her façade drop. “But Dean – should he ever – you know you can count on me, right?”

He nodded, grateful for her support, at least. “Thanks, Bela.”

“Don’t mention it.”

And with a smile, he went into his office.

* * *

A few hours later, he was feeling both definitely less relaxed and less confident. Calls kept coming in, and everyone was bombarding his twitter – which Bela managed for him since he simply couldn’t be bothered – with questions.

Now and then she came in and always cheered him up since she picked the best reactions to read out loud to him. Bela loved the replies on how it was unfair that he and Crowley should take each other off the market, since, as one user put it “There’s a limited amount of hot guys they can’t just have each other” while Dean was greatly enjoying the ones who were only just realizing that creatures went to vernissages and had lives and all of that.

Good. Let it grow.

That didn’t negate the fact that it was a hassle, though, and that he’d much rather have a bit of peace in-between.

A mid-day call to Crowley – some detestable client of his had forced him to have lunch with them, so that plan fell flat – helped.

And so did something else.

When he saw Sam call yet again, he debated whether he should puck up or not, but this was still his baby brother. “Yes, what now?”

To his surprise, Sam sounded… almost contrite. “Dean, I – look I saw the pictures from that gallery again and… this is something serious. I’m sorry. I never wanted to… even when I… and then Dad… what I’m trying to… I shouldn’t have said what I did. This is your life, your choice.”

“No you shouldn’t have.”

“I… I think I have to think about a few things.”

At this point, Dean was starting to wonder how his life could take so many twists and turns in just a few hors.


	22. Chapter 22

Having a social media presence, Dean quickly learned, was incredibly easy. Bela was right – there were apparently enough people who found his admittedly good looks enough reason to follow him, and his and Crowley’s relationship quickly gained some popularity, especially amongst younger people, who were freaking pumped to see two guys in a queer inter-species relationship.

There were of course those who wanted them to go to Hell for what they were doing, but with that, they had counted on from the beginning. They weren’t fools, after all.

And they were still learning how to navigate their personal relationship. Really, despite Dean’s misgivings, it made things easier. Ketch of course tried to point out that there was a conflict of interest but that was easily dismissed by proving that it was hardly against anyone’s interests to fall under the protection of the law, so no problem there.

And neither, he quickly found, were there many when it came to his and Crowley’s private life. He was a demon, yes, but mostly he was a snob, very intelligent and – it transpired somewhat to Dean’s surprise – as fiercely loyal himself now that they were officially dating as he was jealous of anyone who dared try and flirt with Dean. Benny, who he struck up a quicky friendship with, immediately caught on to that and made sure to try to do so out of principle.

And yet, they were already… well, already their relationship was so very… comfortable. Homey, almost. They mostly spend their evenings together, alternating between Dean’s and Crowley’s places (although Dean would admit he really really enjoyed staying over for the bathroom alone – god the fun you could have in Crowley’s giant tub. Enough said), cooking, laughing, and he’d even started to teach the demon all there was to be learned about pop culture despite his half-hearted attempts at protests.

It wasn’t as if it was a one-way street; Dean had already admitted to himself that he quite liked operas and the high-end restaurants Crowley routinely invited him out to if they didn’t# go to what they now both referred to as their first lunch date.

And then there were Gavin and Fiona.

Right after they’d made their relationship public, Crowley’s son had called, asking about a million questions that Dean’s boyfriend had done his best to answer while shooting him several frantic looks that clearly indicated he had no idea what to tell him. Dean had eventually taken pity and inserted himself in the conversation, which in turn had prompted Fiona’s involvement as well, which had then led to all of them talking over each other, albeit good-naturedly, which had seemed to confuse Crowley most of all.

They had had family dinner soon after that; Crowley, bless his heart (not that Dean had told him so) had been nervous and strained, claiming that he’d never done so before, well maybe when Gavin was a kid, you know how it is (yes, Dean knew, and he was rather certain there was a story about Gavin’s mother behind it all but chose not to ask – after all, they had all the time in the world).

Dinner had gone exceptionally well.

And no, he wasn’t at all proud of the fact that Crowley had afterwards admitted to him that “talking about feeling seems easier now” (yes, it had been said with a sneer but it sill counted). Not at all.

And it wasn’t just Gavin who was seemingly interested in healing any breeches.

Sam, as he had promised – and, as Dean had to confess, somewhat to his surprise – had thought about things and started calling more and more often. By now, he even talked to Crowley, although there was still a bit of mistrust there – Dean, however, firmly believed that that would eventually be done away with, even if he would have to do so himself.

It was kind of amazing to have his baby brother back in his life.

Even if Crowley pointed out one day as they were lazing on the couch, “You know it’s kind of amazing – how you manipulate people without even trying.”

“I don’t mani –“

“You just got Sam to disagree with his best mate Brady in what? Five seconds?”

“It was a point if –“

“Yes, I know, spare me the lawyer speak. Point is, people can’t help but agree with you.”

“If we can say that after the case is done…”

“There is no doubt in my mind.”

That was another thing – Crowley believed in Dean, believed that he could do anything he pit his mind to, and he couldn’t help but feel better for it.

He reached out to kiss his boyfriend. “Oh, won’t you shut up for just one second?”

In truth this meant _Do anything but that_ , of course.

Crowley understood.


	23. Chapter 23

Once Ketch had realized that they were prepared for any delay techniques he was throwing their way, he abruptly changed tactics and apparently demanded that his attorney speed the whole thing up.

Which was how they found themselves in court not even three weeks before Christmas, and less than two months after they had gotten together.

But by God, they had used the time wisely. After they had decided they might as well try and get the public to see their relationship as an asset and not a liability, Dean had had the rather brilliant (even Crowley admitted as much) idea to contact Gilda; after all, Crowley had bought pieces of hers before and Dean was rather sure she even liked him, at least a little (to which the demon had appeared absolutely dumbfounded, but there you go).

To say she had been enthusiastic about their plans would have been an understatement.

And a small wonder it was, for it quickly transpired that she had a human girlfriend, Charlie, who was even more savvy when it came to social media than Bela, and more than ready to use her knowledge to help them.-

And so, barely a day had gone by without them posting things on twitter, Facebook and eventually even Instagram (a site Crowley for some reason particularly loathed, claiming the nine circles of Hell were nothing against it, despite the fact that demons and hell had precious little to do with one another).

It seemed they were controlling the narrative for now.

It was manipulative, of course, and slightly immoral, and strange –

And terribly exciting and kind of amazing and exhilarating, not that Dean would openly admit so.

Well, maybe to Crowley when they were alone for some… quality time.

After Sammy slowly working its way up to weekly calls, he’d surprised them last Tuesday by standing in front of Dean’s door, asking whether he could help.

“Won’t that affect your position in your law firm?” had been Dean’s first question.

Obviously having trouble meeting his eyes, Sam had quietly replied, “I – my colleagues… they’re actually taking bets on how quickly you’ll lose. I couldn’t – I thought – I didn’t want –“

And that was how Dean understood that Sam had simply thrown away his job to make things right between them.

Crowley had used this moment to tactfully excused himself, something Sam had been startled about but which hadn’t surprised Dean one bit.

They’d laughed, they’d cried, mostly they’d hugged it out.

* * *

Well then, The big day.

Or at least one of them.

Dean had absolutely no doubt in his mind that, however this would end, the other side would appeal the verdict… this might potentially end up at the Supreme Court.

Well. It would mean his name – their name, for Sam had accepted his offer of returning to their family firm – in the papers, and that could only mean more clients.

And of course it also obvious that he and Crowley would have to stay together, but already, there was no doubt in his mind that it would be so.

All these years, he’d somehow smiled benignly at folks who’d been together forever who had claimed that they had known this was it about a week in, now he knew how they felt.

Charlie had told him that it had been the same for her and Gilda, and he guessed so it had been for Benny and Andrea a well.

Look at him. Six months ago, he had been single, struggling to keep afloat, with little to nor spare time or friends he met on a regular basis.

How that had changed.

“What are you thinking of, Squirrel?”

He blinked, realizing he’d been gathering wool

They were sitting in the back of a taxi, Dean having insisted that it might look much better if they didn’t show up in a limousine – Crowley’s lifestyle being something they had thankfully been able to keep out of the pencil eye, since it had, apart from the cars, never been particularly flashy to begin with.

“Just thinking.”

Crowley caught his eyes and nodded.

Sam had already declared their unspoken communication creepy on more than one occasion.

* * *

Dean would always remember the exact moment he knew they had won.

Judge Singer – recently mode to Kansas and therefore not someone Dean had any experience with – proved to be a calm and serene presence in the court room; which was always a good thing.

Thankfully, Ketch was arrogant and conceited – and made one big mistake.

“Yes, I sent the requisites for the order out to the humans – and the demon as well.”

A slight hesitancy before calling Crowley the demon as if he wasn’t comfortable using his name.

Judge Singer’s face ever so slightly faltering.

They had done it. 

Half an hour later, they left to celebrate.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MERRY CHRISTMAS - or if you're one of those who celebrate on the 25th - have a great Christmas Eve!!!

It was, of course just as he had foreseen, just the beginning. A furious Ketch immediately demanded an appeal, and yes, seemed like the fight would be going on for quite some time.

He didn’t mind one bit. He had a good man – well, a demon with questionable morals, it was true, but who cared? – at his side, just like his new and old friends and, of course, Sammy.

It was true, his brother still had a way to go – but then, he had rather suddenly uprooted his life to come back, and was now back in Lawrence instead of the Big Apple.

Charlie’s manners and Bela’s no-nonsense approach soon cured him of his shyness when it came to Dean’s new circle, however. He even formed a fast friendship with Gavin and Fiona.

The one person who didn’t seem to be enjoying all their newfound happiness was the one who Dean shouldn’t already be calling his mother-in-law in his head but did, if only for himself. She, as it had turned out once they had got together, loved showing up out of the blue and making Crowley feel uncomfortable, a type of behaviour Dean certainly didn’t approve and which he quickly made an end to with the help of their friends.

Crowley had been utterly baffled on finding that he suddenly not only had a partner, but also friends, a fact that had become quickly apparent when Dean had decided they might as well throw a Christmas party.

“You know” Crowley drawled as he looked over the menu, “You might as well stay.”

He looked up. “I am staying” He reminded him

Crowley rolled his eyes. “And when did you last go back to your place, pray?”

Dean gowned as he tried to remember. “Sometimes last week? I think I stayed late at the office, so i…” he trailed off. “Wait, when you say I should stay, do you mean…”

“I mean, you could move in, darling. Your presence has not managed to annoy me thus far.”

“What a romantic proposal.”

They stared at each other as what he’d said sunk in when Dean hastened to add, “I mean I don’t expect –“

“Fine.”

“Wait, what?”

“You just began talking of marriage and I am not opposed to the idea” Crowley, who, when they had met, had been uncomfortable even being thanked, stated, calm as a cucumber. “However, there are a few things you should know before you make this decision…”

* * *

The Christmas party was, at least if you asked Dean, a complete success. Humans and creatures were mingling freely; everyone was still reeling from the ruling even if it was only a first step; and Crowley looked devilishly (there was no other way to say it) handsome in his newest Armani suit, although last week he’d even succeeded in getting him to don jeans and a t-shirt for once, a feat that had prompted Gavin to do a double-take with his mouth hanging wide open.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself” he grinned at Sammy. “Everything alright?”

As if he’d not noticed him chatting up Eileen, one of Charlie’s human friends.

“Yeah”. His eyes travelled around the room. “Seems like things are changing, huh?”

“For the better” he said firmly.

“I think so too.” He hesitated for a moment. Then, “Dean… This is actually… well, this is it, isn’t it?”

“I think so” he parroted his line back to him. “I mean… I’ve never felt about anyone this way before, and I’m pretty sure it’s the same for Crowley.”

“It is. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“We’ve actually been talking marriage” he said as casually as he could; Sam still choked on his drink.

“Isn’t that going a bit too fast?”

“Don’t worry, Crowley already told me I should take my time to decide.” His voice dropped as he confided in Sam, “You see… demons… have a somewhat longer life expectancy…”

“Yes, they’re immortal.”

He rolled his eyes. “If you want to put it like that. Point is, they can bestow their own lifespan on their spouse on the day of the wedding.”

“Are you saying…”

“That’s what I meant with I should take time to think about it.”

“Dean, that’s a lot. Even… considering… everything.”

“I know.” And he did know.

But nothing could shake his belief that this was how things had always meant to be. Or rather he was already pretty sure what his answer was going to be. 

He caught Cowley’s eyes. “Sorry, Sammy, I need to talk to my man real quick.”

Just making sure the guy who’d spent centuries alone wasn’t overwhelmed.

He swooped in for a brief kiss. “You alright?”

He blinked. “Yes. What did you do to Moose, though? He looks spooked.”

“Tell you later” He assured him, watching their assorted friends and family.

Merry Christmas indeed.


	25. Chapter 25

**Years Later**

Dean smiled at the young mavka. “Now don’t you worry, Minna, we’ll have all of this soon sorted out.”

She bit her lip. “I can’t thank you enough.”

“Nonsense.” Really – it was nothing; a few idiots of human customers had seen it fit to try and ruin her café, and that was something Dean simply wouldn’t stand for. No one was allowed to strike against places who served pie.

As he escorted her out of his office, he once more couldn’t hide his pride at the new building – they still called it that, even though it had been quite some time since Winchester & Winchester had moved in, really. Comfortable, neutral without being cold, and everything a client could ask for when looking for an attorney.

Crowley had tried offering to pay from the first, but Dean wouldn’t hear of it. He wasn’t going to use his husband’s money, money he himself or Sammy hadn’t earned.

Well, or a few others. The firm had naturally grown over the years, and its future seemed safely assured, since Emma had long declared her intention of following her dad’s footsteps while Gavin had always been more interested in Crowley’s empire anyway.

Not that Dean and Crowley were planning on going anywhere anytime soon. But now and then, a holiday, seeing the world together, would be nice.

“Heya Sammy” he greeted his brother, who came out of his own office after Minna had left.

“Anything interesting?”

“Just damages. Nothing too taxing. Good thing, too – wouldn’t want anything to ruin our Christmas party.”

Sam snorted. “As if Crickey would allow anything to go wrong.”

Yes, his husband did have the tendency to – well try and do away with anything or anyone that might harm or come after his family. Dean normally managed to keep him in check, though.

“Guys, you have appointments for…”

It had probably surprised no one but Bela herself more when she had decided to work for Winchester & Winchester full time; Dean was utterly convinced that they had the most sufficient secretary/receptionist/watchdog who had ever graced a law firm.

“Alright then, give it to us.”

* * *

The somewhat foreboding, if expensive of Crowley’s mansion when they had first met had over the course of their relationship made way for a much more comfortable one; and of course Emma had elicited further changes.

Dean was the first one home and called up to her room. She immediately ran down and into his arms. “Dad!”

“Someone’s in a good mood.”

“It’s Christmas!”

She had clearly inherited the Winchester enthusiasm for the holidays, alongside Dean’s green eyes, much to Crowley’s joy.

“Yep it is” he grinned. “Or almost. Looking forward to the party?”

It was good they had moved into a bigger mansion – he didn’t’ think the old one would have accumulated all the friends and family members (related by blood or not) they had found over the years.

It was at this moment that Crowley returned.

He really should have seen the presents coming.

“You’re spoiling her, Peaches” Dean sighed as he watched Emma skip away with a new Barnes & Nobel’s leatherbound Lovecraft edition.

“As if you’re not enjoying your own.”

True, one could never have enough Vonnegut.

He kissed his husband lightly. “Ah well.”

He couldn’t really bee angry with him, not for something like this, as the demon would well know by now.

**Christmas Party**

“I have to say brother, you find ways to one-up yourself every year” Benny nodded towards the huge chocolate fountain that had been Emma’s idea.

“You know us, go big or go home.”

“You can say that again. How many clients this month alone?”

It was hardly Dean’s fault (nor had it surprised him) that after they had won at the Supreme Court too, they had become the go-to law firm for representing creatures. Even if there hadn’t been the case, him being with Crowley would probably have don the trick.

“Yeah, well… just doing our job.”

Benny grinned at him. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“Exactly.”

He glanced into the room to find Emma laughing with Eileen, then said, “I should probably go looking for my hubby. Back in a minute.”

“Take your time” Benny drawled in a way that made him blush.

* * *

Crowley had gone out on the patio.

“Needed some fresh air?” he guessed. Crowley had, after all, been alone for centuries before Dean had come along.

“Just a bit overwhelmed” he shrugged; that he was ready to let himself be vulnerable around Dean had been one of the reasons he’d finally agreed to marry him.

Dean kissed him. “Hey, look, it’s snowing.”

“A Christmas miracle, darling” he said with the face of a demon who had had a hand in that.

Dean shook his head; he should have known.

He intertwined their fingers. “Come on, let’s go celebrate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it then, folks. Hope you have a very merry Christmas and the happiest of holidays!!!


End file.
